Paris Fashion Week is always a spectacle, but when Morticia Addams strolled down Rue Saint-Honoré in July — tall, pale, and gliding like a ghost who just discovered Balenciaga — even the most jaded fashion editors whispered, “Wait… is that Anjelica Huston?” No. It was Alexis Stone — the shape-shifting drag sorcerer, celebrity illusionist, and chaos-loving chameleon of our queerest dreams.
RELATED: From AbFab to Absolutely Necromantic: Joanna Lumley Joins ‘Wednesday’
Stone, a 31-year-old makeup artist with the soul of a trickster and the precision of a surgeon, has built an empire (and a 1.3-million-strong Instagram following) by doinhttps://www.instagram.com/p/DL7xmJKsSHb/?hl=en&img_index=1g what RuPaul preaches and most of us fail to do: creating illusions so convincing they disturb reality. His Morticia wasn’t cosplay — it was conjuring. “We wanted to reference as close to the original Addams as possible,” he said, sourcing Huston’s original wig and sequin gown from the actual costume department. The level of detail rivals Oscar-winning film production. The gag? He does it for real life.
RELATED: Jennifer Lopez Meets Her Drag Queen Impersonator Jo Lopez
“I think people have an idea that we go to a Halloween shop and buy these things over the counter, but everything is handmade and takes decades of experience to put together.”
@thealexisstone Alexis Stone as Anjelica Houston’s Morticia 🖤@balenciaga Couture for @demna what a dream it’s been #morticiaaddams #wednesday #fyp #alexisstone
Let’s call it what it is: queer witchcraft. But instead of a cauldron, Stone stirs his spells in a Glasgow flat filled with Polaroids from the ‘90s, face molds, wig hairs, and custom-scented prosthetics that smell like Jack Nicholson’s breath.
Glamour, Grotesque, and Grit
Stone — born Elliot Joseph Rentz in Brighton — didn’t stumble into this art form. He escaped into it. A self-described product of a “broken” home, he left England at 16 and took the long queer pilgrimage through Manchester, New York, and even Sweden before anchoring in Glasgow. Somewhere along the way, he discovered the life-changing power of becoming someone else.
“When I was a kid, I loved being unrecognizable, wearing wigs, fat suits and clip-in teeth… Soothing my inner childhood by dressing up wasn’t necessarily a direction I was aiming for, but it’s something I fell into.”
Stone’s early claim to internet infamy was a 2018 hoax: convincing the world he’d had extensive plastic surgery, only to reveal it was all SFX. That prank didn’t just break the internet — it rewired it. Since then, he’s been everything from Jennifer Coolidge to Glenn Close’s Cruella de Vil to Adele in an emotionally accurate side profile.
And in 2022, the industry finally bowed when he arrived at Balenciaga as Mrs. Doubtfire. That’s not a typo. That’s camp.
“I wasn’t well versed in the world of fashion, but Demna had stumbled across my work, and we decided to work together.”
Since then, Stone’s become a fashion week fixture — a walking, breathing fever dream of the pop culture subconscious. He’s not just imitating celebrities. He’s resurrecting icons, reframing femininity, and making a six-foot-tall muscly gay man completely disappear behind the laugh lines of Meryl Streep.
Haute Couture Meets Drag Lab
The artistry is staggering. Stone works with special effects titans like Neill Gorton (of Saving Private Ryan and Doctor Who) and dental experts who sculpt custom dentures for that perfect Madonna grin. Even scent matters. When becoming Jack Nicholson, he asked a perfumer to bottle what he imagined the actor smells like — “tobacco, mostly.”
“It becomes more of an immersive experience rather than just visual… The whole room just ended up stinking.”
Each transformation is a production, with teams of up to 10 people, custom lenses, hand-laid lace eyebrows, and six-figure budgets. Unlike drag brunch queens lip-syncing to Britney, Stone’s acts unfold silently on the front rows of Jean Paul Gaultier and Diesel shows. No reveal — just stunned silence and the click of a hundred camera shutters.
Drag as Memory, Mourning, and Marketing
There’s poignancy in Stone’s choices. He doesn’t impersonate just anyone. He becomes the characters we miss, the celebrities who shaped our queer psyches — the ghost of Miranda Priestly, the high-cheekboned specter of Lana Del Rey, the eternally underrated Jennifer Coolidge. These aren’t just looks; they’re love letters. Queer elegies in foundation and lace.
“People are so protective of some of these characters. When you reference individuals who are either no longer with us, or touched us on a deeper level, it is personal — so people can be very critical.”
@thealexisstone Watch me transform into Lana Del Rey for @JeanPaulGaultier #alexisstone #lanadelrey #fypシ #fyp
Even fashion houses are waking up to the power of Stone’s illusionary appeal. From Alexander Wang’s viral use of celebrity lookalikes to the rise of “Fake Moss” walking runways, brands are cashing in on identity confusion. But Stone’s work is more than marketing. It’s emotionally rooted.
“There has to be a personal element to why I’m connected to that character… If I’m spending three months studying them, detail by detail, I need to be stimulated to some degree.”
In other words: if it doesn’t spark joy or trauma, it’s not worth the glue stick.
Exit Stage Left (Or Not)
With Demna stepping down from Balenciaga this season, the future of Stone’s runway involvement is uncertain — a shift he’s surprisingly at peace with.
“I’m often asked, ‘What happens after Balenciaga?’, and I think of a Linda Evangelista quote where she said, ‘The goal is to get out of fashion as quickly as you get into it.’”
But make no mistake: Stone isn’t disappearing. A documentary three years in the making is on the way, capturing the stress, sweat, and surreal beauty behind his artistry. And while he may not have all the answers, Stone is clear on one thing:
“I don’t know if I’ll ever fully understand why people take such interest in what I do. Perhaps it’s because, as humans, we have days where we want to feel more visible, and other days where we want to feel invisible or unrecognizable. I think that’s something we can all relate to, to some degree.”
In a world obsessed with authenticity, Alexis Stone reminds us that illusion is an identity too — one painstakingly glued, painted, sculpted, and spritzed into being. He doesn’t just play with faces. He plays with culture, with memory, with gender, with grief. He is both mask and mirror. And to the gays, the girls, and the drama-loving ghouls among us: he is ours.
Source: CNN